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"Evils, Theodorus, can never pass away; for there must always remain something which is antagonistic to good. Having no place among the gods in heaven, of necessity they hover around the mortal nature, and this earthly sphere."
- Socrates, 'Theaetetus'
"Okay, this isn't good."
Pen Dragon looked about the six strangers who had approached their camp. He didn't know who or what they were but he knew evil when he saw it and as he spoke they laughed at him
"Never a truer word was spoken," said the man who had previously announced their presence. "Now, you will die at the hands of the Evil Walkers…"
The little exchange between them may have only been a few sentences, but it told Dragon a few things. The first was that they were underestimating them, that they thought it would be an easy win and they could toy with their victims. The second was they were powerful, because none of them had known they were there until they told them, and finally that meant they were arrogant, because it would have been much easier to kill them all before announcing they were here. Powerful was a problem, but the other two were inherent weaknesses and could be exploited. With egos that large, they had a good target and if they could rattle them just slightly, it might give them the advantage they needed, because he doubted they had the raw power to take them without one. In the fraction of seconds he worked this out, Elena had mind linked them all with her psionic powers and the team were ready.
Dragon's Claws. Dragon wasn't sure who thought it, but the name they had been christened with by a drunken buffoon at the party after the fight in Genosha seemed to have caught in their minds and he gave a smile. He'd go with the flow.
"Whoever said I was talking about us?" he said. The six of them seemed taken aback as if few dared speak to them as such, and that brief hesitation gave the team the opening they needed, and the Claws exploded in to life. It wasn't going to be easy - they'd had a hard days ride and they were tired, but they were also professionals and they knew what they had to do. Six on six, an even fight. Pen and Jessica were the first to move, going for the leader and what appeared to be the second. Jessica took the main man as he appeared to be the stronger of the two and Dragon knew she outmatched him in that category, besides there was a look about the other man that he had seen before, sometimes in his own reflection. Cruelty, simply for the sake of it.
Now that, he could certainly match and there was a brief tussle before both sides fell back a moment to regroup. These Evil Walkers had probably not been attacked directly in a long time, if ever and it had caught them by surprise.
"Look, Balor," said Jessica's opponent. "He cowers behind the woman."
"Indeed, Sartac," Balor answered. "What's the matter, little man? Afraid to fight the warlord himself?" They laughed derisively.
"Nope," said Pen, nonchalantly. "I want to see warlord have the ever-living shit kicked out of him by a girl." They stopped laughing and Pen looked at Balor. "You, on other hand, aren't worth humiliating." Then he smiled. "Well, not like that anyway." Balor was outraged and Pen rushed him as Jess leapt at Sartac and they struck their blows simultaneously and the war had begun.
A short distance away from that encounter, Sam formed a sword from her metallic ectoplasm and faced down the one with the sword.
"I sense power in you," he said. "It has been too long since I matched metal with a worthy opponent, even longer since I faced a worthy female."
"I am Samantha Hasard," she said. "Let's find out how worthy I am." She adopted a fighting stance and her opponent accepted it with grace.
"I am known as Cormac, and you will submit to me…" His eyes locked on to her, staring in to her soul. "You know no other than Cormac…" his voice was rhythmic, slow and gentle. The timbre of words were lulling and seductive and Sam couldn't break the gaze, wouldn't break the gaze. There was just the two of them, she and Cormac.
"I will submit to you," she said, the sword falling from her hand. "My lord."
Cormac smiled. All too easy, he thought as he approached her. The female mind was complex in it's thoughts that was certain, but it was still easier to bend to his will than any man he had met. His hand gently caressed her cheek as she nuzzled his hand.
"Take me," Sam whispered and Cormac knew she was his. The others were having their sport, and he would have his and once he had taken her, he would cut out her still beating heart. Then there was a sudden pain and he stepped back. "If you can." Her voice was hard and broke him from his thoughts, and he felt something was wrong. He looked at her, seeing a small blood-stained knife in her hand, and he felt the wound in his gut. Instinctively he created a telekinetic hold to stem the flow of blood. "Did you really think I would be that easy? You'll have to do much better than that, 'my Lord'." The sarcasm in her voice cut deeper than the blade she had used to stab him. He could feel the anger at such humiliation rising inside him.
"So will you," Cormac cursed as he swung his sword down at her, but she met it with a freshly generated sword of her own and the battle was met.
The power of blow that struck the man was as good as Nomad could give, under the circumstances. He was tired and they'd ridden hard and the batteries on the suit were getting quite low - it was pretty much a glorified body armour now, but with limited movement it was weighing him down so while he was protected he couldn't move quite quickly enough to prevent the shots from landing and the blows hit hard. Jack only had one real choice and he dived to the floor and activated the emergency release, which disconnected all the catches that held the suit together and it dropped off him. He leapt up and moved away from the Scourge suit, knowing that the emergency release had one down side to it - the suit would overload and explode. He dived for cover as the suit erupted in a ball of flame engulfing his opponent and Jack sighed.
He hadn't wanted to do that but the Scourge was gone now. He was Jack Monroe, Nomad, and suddenly he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He felt free, as if by destroying the suit all the horrific things that had been done with it by him, things beyond his control, had been taken away from his soul and he wished he'd done that a long time ago. However he had used it and his foe had been taken in the explosion.
"Was that the best you could do?" said the voice as he emerged from the smoke. "I am Gurien, master of the mountain giants. It will take more than that to defeat me." Jack slightly tipped his head to one side and his eyes narrowed, the voice of Steve Rogers coming back to him that no matter how big, or how powerful they thought they were, there was always a way. While he wasn't Captain America, he'd been trained by him, how to fight, how to think and Cap was the best there was at what he did.
Nomad clenched his fists and smiled. "So let's see what you've got."
Karadoc had never fought an opponent like it and he was duly impressed byt the skill of the young warrior. By rights the man should be a slave, working on a plantation somewhere, but here he was and he was filled with a power akin to that of the dragons themselves, but Karadoc was the master of dragons and there had not been one yet he had not tamed and bent to his will. He was the master of fire and this youth would not best him.
Roberto DaCosta, though, was having the time of his life. For everything that the warrior threw at him, he had found he could counter. Flight, strength, energy blasts, each was met with precision. While he could absorb the other man's assaults, his opponent just turned the fire away. He knew that Reignfire had turned out to be another entity, but he still had the capacity to have that level of power and Magnus had shown him how to be it's master. The master of magnetism was self-taught in the ways of his powers and he had passed his knowledge on to Roberto, who was now ready to listen to his former headmaster. Xavier had taught control, Magnus taught mastery and thanks to the knowledge of the Askani teachings that were inside Roberto's head, he could seamlessly have both coexist. He had mastery and control and he while he walked the fine line between practiced command and ruthless domination, he stayed on the proper side, the side he knew was the right and the part of him that could be Reignfire was locked away.
The battle of two elemental forces was intense, the very ground being superheated by the attacks, and no words needed to be spoken, such was the underlying respect for the other warrior, a respect that had not been present at the start of the encounter, and Roberto could understand why the Bane had desired such a power, as Karadoc fully realised why this man was a champion of the Green. It was such a shame they were on opposing forces, but Karadoc knew that all men could be turned. Perhaps when they bested theses Knights of Pendragon, and if the warrior lived, he would show the young man a better way, the way of the Bane. It would be good to have an apprentice with such power and their conflict continued.
In his castle, the Red Lord monitored the battle. These champions were putting up an incredible fight against the Walkers, a fight of such honour and glory that he had not seen since the time of Arthur. The Green had chosen well, but there was something else, something he wasn't comfortable with. The Red Lord couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it was as if there was something beyond his scope, beyond what even his power could sense. He called upon the Bane for enlightenment, but there was no response - at least not yet. Then it came to him.
"They are not of this timeline," the Red Lord realised. That was why they had sensed a new power, a power they had not done before. They knew the Green had been aware of the alien, but they had all assumed that the Green had marshalled it's vast powers to create new champions, champions who could face the Bane head on, but that conclusion had been wrong. It wasn't that the Green had activated new champions - it had actively reached out through time to bring warriors comfortable with the alien threat. These were future Knights of Pendragon, but how could there have been such a disturbance in time that the Bane had not been aware of? The arrival of the alien had been felt as the natural order had been disrupted, but this had happened… almost seamlessly. He could feel the considerations of the Bane on this matter - did the alien presence within their midst alter the very fabric of all they worked for? Perhaps this would alter the future in ways they had not considered, and he knew the Bane was concerned that their eventual triumph was under threat.
They knew enough of the future to prepare for what was to come - maybe it was time for their erstwhile ally to be removed, but while arbitrarily killing the creature was his preferred option, there were other considerations and the Red Lord waited for instruction from the Bane as to how to proceed in this…
While the others were engaged in a battle of physical proportions, Elena and Mordred engaged each other in a battle of minds. Elena knew that the sorcerer's power was dependant on concentration and so she had started an assault on his mind, filling it with random noise from around the place. Mordred was an accomplished sorcerer, and it took a lot to distract him, but as she was translating the sounds in to Russian, his focus was not what it was and he had been forced to ascend to the astral plane in order to battle the women.
It was not something he cared to do, knowing how easy it could be to be trapped outside his own body should something happen, to exist as little more than a wraith, but he also knew that it was something that needed to be done. The woman was more an annoyance than a threat, but an annoyance he needed to dispatch before he did what was needed. He could feel her great mental prowess, but he was a sorcerer of the highest order and he could manipulate the structure of the astral plane as well as she could, with the help of a few well-chosen spells. The vastness shifted and altered in to something more familiar to him, the setting of Camelot and he was dressed in his knightly garb, all moulded of psionic energy.
Elena knew her greatest mental weapon, her cleansing fires, would be of no use here, but she was a powerful telepath and she had been on the astral plane before. She altered her appearance to be as knightly as Mordred, who laughed.
"It never fails to amuse me how ridiculous women look, dressed as warriors. A sackcloth skirt may suit you better, or perhaps nothing at all. I have long since considered the best place for a woman is on her back with her legs apart, ready to receive her better."
"In the tales I have heard of the great Mordred," Elena replied, "his relationship with his mother is much more intimate, perhaps because all he ever wanted was to go back inside his mother's belly where she could protect him."
"Do not speak of my mother!" Mordred hissed and charged towards her, his sword swinging and Elena countered it and slammed the pommel of her sword in to his jaw.
"Poor Mordred," she taunted. "No wonder you're such a bitter disappointment."
"Do not believe all the myths," he said and he plunged his hand in to her astral form and Elena felt an icy chill run through her. "Sorcery requires a drain upon the soul, wench, but it does not necessarily have to be my own." Elena struggled, scarcely comprehending how she had been snared so easily. She had thought she had been breaking his concentration, when she was really focusing it with her taunts. Mordred's touch tainted her, and through that taint he was able to access her memories and knowledge of the others, of who they were, where they were from and why they were here.
He saw now that his fellow Walkers had been paired off with their equals in terms of power and that the battle would and could be won by the champions of the Green and he would not allow that. These Pendragons would fall, as all before them had fallen. No, they were not Pendragons, but Dragon's Claws. He could sense that they took their lead from this Pen Dragon, a man not just displaced in time and space, but reality as well, a conduit in to realities beyond this one. The Bane would make great use of such a man and he could sense the taint of the Bane within him, buried but there all the same.
"Thank you, my dear," he said and sent a mystical shove through her astral form, forcing her back in to her own body, which in turn was sent sprawling. Mordred knew the key to breaking Pen Dragon was to break his spirit - and he knew exactly how that would be done.
Balor was fast, deadly and powerful in his own right and against anyone else he would have been a significant opponent, Dragon mused. Shame he wasn't fighting anyone else. Every dirty trick Balor tried, Dragon countered with one of his own and threw in something the warrior wasn't ready for. It was an incredibly good workout, he thought to himself, as well as a test of his prowess. He'd not had much use for either his training, from SHIELD or Black Air, but he was actually enjoying this, cutting loose on a fighter and giving him the kicking he so richly deserved and so far he hadn't used his powers yet. Balor could obviously take the punishment, but his frustration at not being able to dispatch the man he was fighting was getting to him and he was getting bigger with his attacks, giving Dragon an opportunity to evade the blows. His plan was simple enough - evade and take whatever shots he could and he was giving some of his best.
"If this is all you lot have then I can see why no bugger's heard of you where I'm from," he said as he grabbed Balor and slammed his head repeatedly in to the floor before Balor shrugged his shoulders and threw Pen off. Dragon twisted, rolled and was in a crouching position as Balor stood up again. "You've never faced anyone like me before."
"My powers are beyond your comprehension," Balor said. "I can keep going until you have long since fallen."
"Cool," said Pen. "It'll make beating you much more satisfying." Then he realised Balor was gone, suddenly vanishing. Instinct said there was someone behind him and he turned, just avoiding what would have been a lethal stroke from a sword, turning it in from a mortal blow to a very deep cut and he could see that the man who had been fighting Sam was now behind him. "What the fuck?" he said in surprise, he'd not been expecting that and Cormac's blade whipped at him, scratching him and Dragon knew that it was being done deliberately, to show his skill. He wasn't going to be able to keep this up long and he fired his hot knives, burning through the sword and in to the swordsman, who staggered back, giving Pen chance to slam his fist in to his face, sending him to the floor, out cold.
"This isn't good," he said and he could see the others were also in trouble. Sartac had Roberto in a chokehold and his arms were hanging at odd angles, and Pen knew they'd been dislocated at the shoulders. Without his arms to redirect his energy or fight back, Roberto was out of the fight. Sam was engulfed in flame as the guy Roberto had been fighting had used his powers on her and he knew she would only have some minimal resistance to that. Jack was being pounded on by Balor, who had taken him by surprise in much the same way the others had done and there was nothing Nomad could do but take the punishment. That had just left Jessica and the man mountain Monroe had been fighting earlier. Pen called her name and he fired his hot knives towards Balor, each shot with a precision that missed Nomad but hit his aggressor, but Jack just slumped to the floor. Jessica's shot on Gurien was followed up with a bioblast that sent him sprawling and she followed it with a shot on Karadoc, sending him away from Sam, but she could barely move.
Horror filled Pen as he realised the Walkers were recovering from that assault and the rest of the team were still down. There was only Jessica and himself left, and there was no way they could take on six of them. He wasn't sure what the hell had just happened, but they were royally shafted now.
"You see the impossibility of it all," said a voice behind him and he turned to see Mordred standing there, with Lei Kang, Fudo and Kimiko being held aloft by his magics, but around their necks were ropes and Dragon realised that if Mordred released his hold they would drop and be hanged. Lei Kang he could live without but Fudo was his son, well almost, and he had married Kimiko, even if he had done it knowing that eventually he'd be gone and it would be the problem of the other Pete Wisdom after that. Until then though, she was his responsibility, and just as he was about to give up he felt Elena touch his mind with one word - RUN.
It wasn't a panicked word, but a word of calm and he knew that she had a plan of some kind and then he saw little fire sprites appear above Fudo, and they leapt to the ropes, searing the threads and cutting them loose and Mordred hadn't noticed. Lei Kang nodded and Pen knew that the man would buy them some time. He had no other choice and Jessica shouted to him.
"You heard her, RUN!" Dragon closed his eyes, wished them luck and then the two of them fled over the moor land. Mordred waved his hand, releasing his hold and Lei Kang was free. He didn't have his powers, but he was a martial artist and he would put up as big a fight as he could to defend his daughter and grandchild, but both he and Pen knew it wouldn't be enough. It was done to buy them time, nothing more.
He paused, ready to go back. He didn't like the fact they'd left them.
Jessica grabbed him, her grip hurting his shoulder. "Damn it, run!" she hissed at him and he nodded and they kept going, and he took the lead from Jessica. Something was drawing him this way, he could feel it, even if he didn't quite know what and soon they reached a stone circle and he stumbled as he reached the perimeter. His wound was getting to him and his legs felt like lead.
"What are the odds that blade was poisoned," he muttered as Jessica helped him up.
"We need to get out of here, get help - the hell with what Kate said."
He nodded agreement. "Except I doubt it'll be we, Jess. I'm slowing you down. I… hello." His eyes locked on to the centre of the circle where a sword was embedded within the centre obelisk. "What are the odds of that then?"
"A sword in the stone?" said Jess. "You don't think it's…?" She trailed off, leaving the thought they were both having unsaid.
"Only one way to find out," he said and she helped him over to the sword.
"Good luck," she said, and he grabbed on to it the hilt. He wondered how easy it would be and he pulled but nothing happened. "Please, don't do this to me," he said and he tried again, giving it his all, taking the pain in his side but try as he might the blade wouldn't shift free. "Oh, come the fuck on," he cried in frustration. "I'm Pen Dragon, damn it, why the hell will you not pull loose?"
"Because only the worthy heir of Arthur may pull the sword from the stone," said Mordred as around the stone circle, the Evil Walkers surrounded them. "And you, Peter Wisdom, are not even of this reality." The net around them was closing. "Your friends are gone, the Green has deserted you, what hope do you have of defeating us?"
"Just one," he said and he looked to Jess and nodded. She grabbed hold of Excalibur and cleanly pulled it free of the stone, to the abject horror and amazement of the Walkers and Pen once more allowed himself a smile. "And now it gets interesting…"
